Lingering Fear
by alphalover
Summary: Martha reacts after the black-kryptonite Kal-El incident


Title: **Lingering Fear**  
Category: TV Shows » Smallville  
Author: magic or manic  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: K+  
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family  
Published: 08-23-10, Updated: 08-31-10  
Chapters: 4, Words: 2,938

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

* * *

Martha stepped tentatively into the loft where her son now hid.

The words she had uttered to Bridget – "I can't possibly face Clark alone" resonated in her ears as she realized that she was now physically afraid of her own child.

She exhaled sharply at the realization. She feared him now. She saw both her sweet child and a possible world conqueror. Cold, hard and capable of sacrificing a lot of 'one's for the good of the many.

He heard her approach and whirled up to face her standing. She staggered backwards suddenly, remembering how he had looked at her with such icy coldness. She remembered being flung down hard by the uncaring Kal-El. In those moments it had been hard to believe that the upbringing they had given Clark could matter. Jor-El had somehow uploaded a new persona into her son and pushed aside the original one.

Clark saw the sudden retreat, and he lifted his hands up in gentle supplication.

"It's me, mom," he said gently. "Clark."

She saw her son gazing nervously and sadly from those beautiful eyes of his.

But her heart still raced in remembered fear. Conqueror. Would that be him one day? Was Clark only here for a short time, to be replaced inexorably by a super-powered sovereign? And if so, would she be dead to him too, blamed for keeping him from his destiny?

He could burn her away with a glance or just pound her with fists until she broke completely.

Her son, yet she feared him.

"Clark," she breathed. "I – I – " and she began to move quickly down the ladder.

He moved forward in a rush and saw his own mother continuing to retreat. When he jumped down to meet her on the ground, she made a sudden high sound of fear.

He made a mental note to act more human around her.

"I'm so sorry, mom," he begged her. "I know I hurt and scared you. I know I keep doing this. I know all this… but I don't want all this. I don't want to rule the world," he begged. "I don't want to conquer!"

"I'm not sure you have a choice anymore," she said to him in a frightened voice. "And if Jonathan and I keep trying to get in the way, what will be the reprisal when Kal-El returns."

She staggered away as she said those words. She was rejecting him, pushing him away due to her own fear of personal harm. How could she do this?

"I – I'm sorry Clark I'm not trying to be cruel – I'm just scared," she confessed, as she faced him tearfully.

"Mom. So am I," he said pleadingly as he approached her. She had to fight with every will in her heart not to back away from her remorseful son.

"I need you mom," he pleaded. "I need you to tell me I still belong."

She moved in towards him, spurred by his anguish and hugged him tight.

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Chapter 2**

* * *

Clark hesitantly followed his mother back inside.

His mother was still afraid. He could see it in every fiber of her being.

This fear from them was nothing new. Ever since his abilities began to grow more and more godlike, that fear had settled in and never really left.

In the beginning, the fear was based on what he could do… not whether he would chose to use those powers in a negative way. He was a good guy. His parents knew that. Trusted that.

But they still were afraid. Heat vision was especially terrifying. The fact that they could ever stand to have them look at them was a testament to how brave they both were. He was a teenage boy. If lustful thoughts brought the heat vision out, it was amazing he hadn't burned everything down in sight. He had learned to control it, by dint of his father's very sound counsel, but the fact that they had trusted that he had it under control amazed him. How strong were they, anyway?

He had called them on it their fear when he was hopped on red kryptonite. The day he scared the crap out of everyone he encountered. The fact that anyone could ever be easy again in his presence after that amazed him. Those that knew surely knew he was a walking time bomb. Those that hadn't known must have thought him dangerously schizophrenic. How could you feel comfortable around Clark Kent if you knew him to have multiple personality issues – where one of the personalities was psychotic. Somewhere, Jessie and her father existed in this world fearing that the crazed Clark Kent with the unbelievable strength and speed would come after them. He knew he should resolve that issue, but he shrank from the duty as clearly as Jessie had shrunk from him as she lay huddled in that cornfield.

The message in his spaceship had scared the living hell out of him. Yet his father had stood there, strong and stoic, telling him that he owned his own destiny. He never could understand how his father hadn't lost control of that fear then and there. Hearing it come out of his alien's son's mouth – the idea that his son had been sent to take over the world should have merited more than one of his dad's speeches – his dad should have been more frantic and desperate to ensure his son understood that the destiny put forth by his father could never be realized.

And yet, Jonathan had been stoic, even though Clark could, at that point, smell his fear and told him calmly that he made his own choices.

How many times had he slammed someone he loved into something hard and unyielding? How many times had he used his powers to hurt, destroy, and steal? He had used his powers violently while in Metropolis that summer in order to terrify everyone around him to establish his role as alpha. As conqueror.

And then, he had beaten his father nearly to death. Even with his powers, his father was no match for a true Kryptonian. And yet is father and mother still looked at him with gentle love in their eyes. They forgave his transgression in putting on the ring to ease his pain even though he knew that the ring made him dangerous.

But now, he had finally run out of chances. His mother was clearly unable to hide her feelings any more.

When he told her that either way, Jonathan was dead, that was the moment where she transitioned from welcoming him back to feeling complete and utter terror.

She had finally believed that her son would actually become that conqueror, and now that the conviction had set in, he was certain that every day was a battle between her heart and her knowledge. She loved him and would never hurt him, but in not hurting him, did she feel she was opening the earth up to future alien dominion?

He knew she was actively dreading when (not if) Kal-El manifested himself in Clark again. She knew she was afraid that he would kill her. Not just because she had tried to keep him from becoming Kal-El, but because she had actively thwarted him with the kryptonite.

And even though she knew that, she still offered him comfort and love. And that made her stronger than anyone else he'd ever met. When he had fallen to the ground , driven down by the sound of the stone, she had grabbed him and tried to make eye contact with him, despite his disturbing words about Jonathan, and despite knowing he wasn't Clark anymore. Still, she had been his mother, tender, solicitous and terrified for his well being.

And then he had stood up and brought every one of her fears to life as he had coldly intoned his name and purpose, and it was then that she truly snapped. But instead of huddling away in terror, the woman had shown her strength again.

His mother had pounded on his chest with angry fists, screaming for her son back. She had done this knowing full well he was now dangerous to her. That to evoke Clark would only enrage the Kryptonian in him. And yet she did it, because while she was terrified of Kal-El, she loved Clark Kent. And that love was stronger than what she felt about Kal-El. He had forced her down as he had taken to the skies, and even then, she had been determined to face this terrifying stranger wearing her son's godlike body.

She had faced him in that cavern. She had taken each and every step towards her doom, believing it would be better to be fried alive by an angry Kryptonian than it would be to let her son go. She had risked everything for him, and when he had crashed down to the ground she had gathered him up in her arms, even before she knew who he was. As weakened as he had been, he had forced himself to hold and caress her hands, so that she would know who he was. The idea of allowing her any further fear for her life at that moment had been unthinkable to him.

But in the distance from those more desperate moments to the relative calmness of now, she had had time to let her fear take root again, and he was fairly certain until he got all this garbage with Jor-El finally sorted out, his mother's heart would always start speeding up whenever he came into the room or she heard his voice.

He wanted to tell her it would be all right and that he would never hurt her.

But he knew it was a lie, because Clark Kent was also terrified of Kal-El.

"Clark," she said, with her wonderful maternal gentleness. Gentleness that completely belied what lay beneath – a fierce tigress that had rescued him from an alien intent first on conquering him. "I'm sorry."

He looked at her, again amazed by her seeming fearlessness and acceptance.

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Chapter 3**

* * *

Clark and Martha moved together to the car, equally intent on going to see Jonathan.

"Did you want me to drive," he asked her, unsure about how steady she felt in the face of all the trauma she had experienced.

"I'm fine, Clark," she said with a tight smile and firm voice.

"Mom… did I hurt you at all? When I pushed you? Are you sure you're all right?"

The memory of flinging her down haunted him. He had physically hurt his own mother.

"I'm fine," she said. "And it wasn't you. It was –"

"Mom," he groaned, shaking his head, feeling sickened by her trust.

"I'm fine," she said again. Not trying to ease him out of his guilt. It was good he should feel this. It meant that Clark Kent was far too decent to ever take over the world.

Jonathan had seen the two of them come in together with a surge of relief that nearly brought him to tears. His boy was fine. Jor-El had not stolen him. But from the words not spoken, he knew that something major had happened.

Clark looked at his mother.

"I should wait out here. You guys deserve some privacy. Promise not to listen in."

"Clark," she said, remembering how they had shut him out after her miscarriage. She still blamed both of them for sending Clark off and running.

"Mom, please," he begged her. "Please…"

Jonathan listened to his wife regale him with the horrifying story of how their son had been lost to him. How the first step to his so-called destiny had been completed, and how Martha had narrowly prevented the next stage from beginning. He hugged her tight.

"That was so brave," he told her, "You are so brave!"

"He's my son. When it comes down to it, there's nothing I wouldn't do to save either one of you."

Later, when they brought Clark back in, Jonathan was fully gratified to hear his son echo his belief about Martha having saved the day. The utter adoration and awe with which the young man viewed his mother blew him away. It was then that he began to believe that Clark could win the battle against his father. He had an excellent example of a selfless strong hero who never abused her power. His mother.

When he asked the boy about flight, his answer brought forth the issue out into the open.

His son was afraid of being unstoppable.

When Martha heard those words, she turned to him and told him that he could do anything, and he understood what she meant. Yes – he could do anything with his powers. He could also prevent his Kryptonian programming from overwhelming him.

After the family hug moment was over, Clark spoke directly to Martha.

"I'm Clark Kent," he said, with a sheepish smile. No trace of tall arrogant precision about him. "Of Smallville, Kansas. Of Earth, as a matter of fact. And my destiny belongs to me. And nothing is more important to me than the people I love."

He had to say these words. To erase the others. And he was pleased to see that when they looked at him uttering these words, their hearts remained constant and steady.

Later, when he spoke to Professor Fine, he stated his words with conviction, despite the older Kryptonian's attempts at seeding doubt.

Humans were flawed, but they were also incredible. He had learned this year that both his human parents possessed characteristics that placed them above any Kryptonian he would ever meet. His parents had scarified everything – including their own personal safety – to protect their alien child. And every time he saw evidence of that, his assurance that he was Clark Kent of earth became even more deeply entrenched.

He would not betray his home world. Earth.

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Chapter 4**

* * *

Clark was in his loft, brooding again.

The visit to the hospital was so cathartic and emotional that he needed time to process it all.

He kept wracking his brain, trying to remember the time that he had lost, but it was completely gone. All he knew was the past few days, and those were days he feared to remember.

He kept hearing 'Either way, he's dead' ringing in his ear. He had fixed the photo, placed it in a new frame, placed it back in it's place of honor, but he couldn't forget the words that came from his mouth. He wasn't even sure what he meant by it. Was it a threat, or had it simply been a statement of the status quo. For that matter, what had been killing Jonathan?

Clark feared that it had been his own mind somehow forcing Jonathan deep down into his coma. Why else would Jonathan have awoken when his Kal-El persona had been defeated? Obviously as Kal-El, he had powers he couldn't access as Clark, so was what he did to Jonathan a power?

Regardless, it was clear to him that he had been the one to keep Jonathan down, and his mom had once again come to the rescue. Her words to him after that awful experience with remembering his placement into his spaceship made him feel even more ashamed for all the garbage he had thrown at her – both now and when he had been hopped up on the red Kryptonite.

He remembered how she had held him as he lay recovering on the ground of the cave. She had come to him immediately and cradled him as if he was a child. A child twice her size and growing into the powers of a god.

But she had not held back. She had come to him and waited as he regained his strength and energy. Never did a word of recrimination pass through her lips even though he had set this entire thing in motion when he had defied his parents and put the key in the cave.

If you're going to ruin people's lives, you should at least consulted them, and he rarely did. As Kal-El he had completely pushed her away, indicating that her work as his mother was over.

And that was probably the worst of all. He had rejected her and he knew how torturous that would be for her.

He had looked up at her, as she held him in the cave and he saw the fresh scrapes on her face from when the force of the blast had thrown her into the cave wall. His fingers had come up without thinking and gently rubbed against the scratches as if he could erase them.

She had grabbed his hand lovingly and told him not to worry. Just a little scratch. Nothing to worry about.

She was always doing that. Trying to take the extraordinary circumstances of his life and turn them into something he could process.

It wasn't until she had reacted in fear when he had gotten up too quickly to face her that he realized how much work she put into being able to process all the crazy things he could do. All the crazy things he actually did.

He heard her calling him from inside the house. It was time to build back what Kal-El had damaged.


End file.
